


We should talk about this

by Rococospade



Series: Before the nightmare [2]
Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Blink And You Miss It Slash, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:46:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29185749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rococospade/pseuds/Rococospade
Summary: Character study/drabble. Meant as gen, could be slash.It's the middle of the day and he should be sleeping, but instead he's watching the head of the Healing Church break and enter like a common felon. Ludwig isn't awake enough for any of this. But if Laurence wants to talk that badly, well, he's willing to forgo a little sleep to hear the man out.
Relationships: Laurence & Ludwig (Bloodborne)
Series: Before the nightmare [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120991
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	We should talk about this

**Author's Note:**

> Basically a missing scene for chapter 8 of Choral Composition (and... therefore has mild spoilers for said fic), but can be read without that context (really, only the ending scene directly ties to Choral)  
> This story is operating on the presumption that Laurence and Ludwig managed to survive a while after Maria's death, which is a _pretty big_ presumption. It was something that happened because I imagined the implications of them being the last of the Old Hunters left in the Cathedral Ward.  
> Some stuff on characterization on bottom.
> 
> Thanks to MissMonie for betaing and offering feedback! I edited it after she did that, so any mistakes are mine. 
> 
> TW for suicidal ideation and people lying to themselves. It's Bloodborne and no one is okay.

The scourge outbreak was getting worse, which meant the hunters were thin on the ground, which meant Ludwig was pulling extra shifts. 

Ludwig stumbled into flat at close to eight and fell on the bed face-first, intending to sleep until _at least_ two, and then he would consider the relative merits of sleeping up til just before he had to resume work. 

He wouldn’t do it, of course. But telling himself that _maybe today he would_ helped him relax enough to sleep.

The flat was blessedly dark, and it smelled like home, and he could faintly hear the noise of the parishioners - his wards - moving around beyond the property, and that too helped him relax. He’d made a difference. His hunters made it so these people could go about their lives unafraid. Wasn’t that worth a little missed sleep?

Ludwig smiled into his pillow and dozed off. 

#

He got to sleep for maybe an hour before something woke him. Metal scraping, and then the outside seemed a little louder than it ought to have-

He reached for his bedside table and lifted a parrying dagger, then pushed himself out of the bed and onto his feet, careful not to let the floor creak under him.

It was a fool’s errand. When he got into the living room he realize there _was_ no burglar. No - rather it was a familiar cleric sliding in the open window. Ludwig was _sure_ he’d shut and locked that before his shift the night before.

“Laurence.” Ludwig greeted, and tried to decide how he felt about his old friend - and his superior, the Vicar of the Healing Church - sneaking around like a common trespasser. It hurt his head a little. What were people going to say if they saw the head of the church breaking into the apartments in the middle of the day?

… Well. Maybe that was why he’d put on a regular church set. It was a little less conspicuous than his full raiment, though ‘clerics are breaking into church apartments’ didn’t really ring to Ludwig as much of an improvement. No one was going to trust the church if her upper echelons were stocked with lunatics. (Well. Obvious lunatics, anyway.)

“Ludwig.” Laurence fixed him with a radiant smile, the sort that gave Ludwig flashbacks to Byrgenwerth, and whatever wild idea either Laurence or Gehrman - or, sometimes, Maria - had thought up instead of sleeping or studying. Sometimes _while_ studying. “You had work last night. I saw the roster. You should really be asleep.”

“Well- I _was_.” Ludwig said, politely leaving out that he’d woken because Laurence had decided that doors were for lesser men.

Laurence narrowed his eyes. “It would not be an issue at all if you assigned yourself less shifts.”

If Ludwig assigned himself less, someone else would have to pull doubles or triples instead. He smiled at Laurence without meaning to act on his advice. “I mean nothing untoward by saying so, Laurence, but should you not also be at rest?”

Laurence barely blinked. It made him resemble a reptile. “It’s so kind of you to worry.” This meant something along the lines of ‘I’m an adult and I’ll decide when I rest, thank you’. 

Ludwig tried not to look like he was judging him for it, and spent a moment missing his bed. “I did not expect to see you today.” He said, brushing off his clothes, which were definitely not fit for visitors, but also Laurence had seen him half-gutted before and Ludwig was so very, very tired. “Shall I put on tea?”

“I’m not here on formality.” Laurence spread out his hands and smiled again in appeal, “Can’t I just want to visit an old friend?”

Ludwig blinked at him, guilt wriggling up from the pit of his stomach. Had Laurence been overburdening himself, trying to oversee too much? It wouldn’t have been the first time. “Of course you can. Please, come sit down and we can speak.”

“I was just going to lurk in your study until you woke up.” Laurence admitted. “You needn’t stay awake on my account.”

“It’s not much of a visit if only one of us is awake, Laurence.” Ludwig resigned himself to another sleepless day, “And if something is troubling you, I’d rather hear about it. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep otherwise.” Because he really couldn’t think of many reasons Laurence would want to just… sit in his study while he slept. 

“You worry too much.” Laurence turned to close the window he’d come in. He pulled the curtains tight after, and Ludwig wondered if anyone actually knew where the Vicar had gotten off to.

“I’m going to have to scold whoever was assigned to guard you.” Ludwig realized, “You do know that, Laurence?”

“Oh. Let it go.” Laurence drifted further into the apartment, effortlessly quiet. He looked like a ghost. “It’s hard to follow me when I order them to stay put.”

Ludwig shut his eyes and counted to ten. Laurence meant well, he did. He was just- and- of course there was always-

… no, this was weird. This was the sort of behavior he expected from Gehrman or Maria, and he couldn’t pretend to be surprised that Laurence was lapsing back into it - he’d been just as bad when they were young - but gods if it couldn’t disappoint him a teeny, tiny bit to see it when they were both pushing fifty. Whether they looked it or not. “And you ordered your guards to stay put so that you could… climb through my window and visit me while I slept.”

He was not awake enough for this.

“Have you been to visit Gehrman lately?” Laurence asked, padding right up to him and taking the parrying dagger from his limp fingers to examine it. 

Ludwig squinted at him. “No? He… turns away visitors.” He was still doing that, wasn’t he? Ludwig had gone on his last off-shift, which had been…

… been…

… maybe he needed to schedule a day for himself before the next Hunt. He would not be useful if he kept going like this, as much as he wanted to pretend otherwise. He was not thirty anymore.

“Yes, it’s very irritating.” Laurence agreed, unsheathing the blade. “I don’t know what he thinks he’s doing in there. I ought to go down and pull him out,” His eyes glittered with a particular glee that brought to mind many, many petty arguments. “Maybe by the hair.”

Most of those petty arguments, it had to be said, were with Gehrman. Sometimes Maria, if Laurence was truculent, or if he thought he could get out of range in time somehow. 

Laurence… was charismatic if you didn’t know him well. When you did. Well. He had a talent for getting under people’s skin, whether he meant to or not.

… with Gehrman, he usually meant to. Ludwig thought, anyway, and he was probably in a better position to say than most people.

“I do not think that would be a good idea, Laurence.” He took care to speak gently, “He misses Maria. He is hurting.”

Laurence’s lip curled, and fire flashed in his eyes. 

Ludwig thought, _Ah, I’ve found the hurt._

Laurence’s fingers tightened on the dagger, like he was considering using it. “We _all_ miss Maria. He can’t just _stop_ _living_ because she’s gone.”

Ludwig reached up and folded his hands around Laurence’s and gently took back the blade. 

“He needs time,” He sheathed it and moved it onto the console table behind him, out of Laurence’s reach unless he wanted to walk around Ludwig to get it again. “You can’t push him to process things faster.”

“ _We need him_.” Laurence hissed, startling him. Ludwig turned to face him, and Laurence waved his hands. “We need him and where is he? Locked in that workshop with that- _effigy_ he’s made.” Laurence’s face creased, discomfort and anger and grief warring together on it. “I don’t understand him. How can he do that?”

Ludwig’s chest hurt. “I miss how things were, too.” He put his hands on Laurence’s shoulders, as much to comfort him as to ground himself, “But he’s as stubborn as you. Pushing him will not bring him back.”

Privately, he doubted anything would bring Gehrman back, but he did not say so. Laurence would not thank him to hear it, and admitting it felt - wrong, like he was working evil in the world only by his words.

They were not who they were since Byrgenwerth. They were not even who they were since before the Hamlet. And since Maria’s withdrawal, and her-

… he didn’t want to think about it. He did not want to think of when she stopped dreaming, or the mess she’d left them when she decided how she would go. 

Maria’s choice left Ludwig unmoored, and afraid, but he needed to be the strong one. So he could not say so.

As for why she’d done it - he tried not to think about that either. It had been unfathomable at the time. But every year seemed to strip something from that until it was little more than a flimsy pretense, and that scared him too, that every day seemed more like they were living in a nightmare, and Maria was the only one who’d realized it and _did_ something about it. They had sunk so much into this. Their work, their blood, their entire lives. And now so many people had gone beyond helping-

“It has all been for the sake of learning.” Laurence argued. 

Ludwig did not know if he was talking to Gehrman, or Master Willem, but he’d heard this before enough to realize the words weren’t meant for him. Laurence was arguing with someone who wasn’t there to hear him, and all Ludwig could do for him was listen.

“Maria looked, and she saw something she could not reconcile. Mistakes have been made, I will grant. But- haven’t we done good, as well as evil?” The question seemed to diminish Laurence, peeling back the layers of artifice and state until Ludwig was reminded that Laurence was really only a small man, and it was his voice and his bearing and his words which commanded whatever room he walked into.

“Yes,” Ludwig said, thinking of the hunters still in their employ - patriots, children of hunters past, foreigners and beggars who would have died without ministration. The revolutions of medicine the Choir delivered. The advancement of humanity. “Yes. Of course we have.”

“But Gehrman doesn’t see it anymore.” Laurence shrunk away from him, crossing his arms. The crease in his brow got worse. “He’s been blinded.”

“We all have people who blind us,” Ludwig said, and did not think of the Hamlet. “Gehrman has done much, and lost more, for us, and for Yharnum. Please give him a little more time, Laurence. And-” Ludwig hesitated. “I know that you see it differently than we do. And I don’t mean to presume. But it has not been so long, and- I think perhaps you should give yourself time, as well.” 

Laurence went very still, and peered up at him, eyes blazing in the dark. “Do you think.” There was something cold in his voice.

Ludwig watched him. “I do. I miss them, both of them. And I miss- all of us. The way things were before. I am sure you miss them, too.”

Laurence clenched his fists and turned away, forcing Ludwig to let go a moment. “He’d throw away the living to dwell on the dead.” He said, and there was too much pain and vitriol in the words to only mean Gehrman. 

Ludwig laid his hands back down and squeezed Laurence’s shoulders. “He is mourning.” He tried willing him comfort, some measure of understanding. The peace of knowing that he could only do a little and that that was- fine, it was enough. “Please. What can I do, Laurence? I wish to help.”

(He was not sure if Laurence had ever felt that peace, knowing that he’d done all in his power and could not reach farther. He was not sure that Laurence even _could_.) 

Laurence crossed his arms and said nothing. Ludwig let him collect himself without comment, and tried not to dwell on his own worries.

( _What if she wasn’t mad? What if she was the last of us with any-_ )

( _No_. He had to believe they were doing good, because otherwise—)

“Could it be you’re afraid he’ll go the same way?” Ludwig asked, when the silence stretched too long, and his own thoughts became too dark to dwell in. 

Laurence went stiff under his hand. “Gehrman? _Never_.” He turned his face back towards Ludwig and smiled, softening his own words. “I really think he’s too stubborn. Can you even imagine? He’d have to-” He faltered and fell quiet. “He’d have to admit he was wrong. I don’t think he ever could.”

Ludwig managed to smile back at him. “I don’t know. I seem to remember him admitting several times that teaching any of us to Hunt was a mistake.” Maria sometimes. Ludwig too. And Laurence, er- often.

(But Gehrman adored Laurence, or he had once. He’d gone and designed that cane for him, when the other weapons were too slow and too heavy to suit. Ludwig remembered that day. But bringing it up would probably annoy Laurence, maybe enough to get Ludwig bitten. So he kept his mouth shut on the matter.) 

“That’s different.” Laurence insisted, “He’s happy to admit mistakes if it means he can _insult someone._ ” Still. Discussing it seemed to lighten Laurence’s mood a little.

“Mm.” Ludwig inclined his head. “It’s true, he is somewhat temperamental as a person. I think he’s happiest surrounded by other, equally temperamental people.” Not naming names, of course.

Laurence narrowed his eyes. “You would mock me, Ludwig, when I come to you for comfort?”

“No, no. Never.” Ludwig patted his shoulders and let go of him, fixing an amiable smile on Laurence. “Of course, if I meant to insult you, I would say so plainly.” He waited a moment, then added, “I think you and Gehrman are both as stubborn as a pair of mountain goats fighting over the best cliff face.”

Laurence made a face at him, and Ludwig added, “And I believe you are both doing as well as you can, and that’s all I can ask of either of you.”

Laurence bristled, and Ludwig held up a finger to request silence. 

“ _And_ I think it’s alright that you’re unhappy with him, although I would- really prefer you not antagonize him, when he is already so hurt. I think it would make things worse, for both of you.” He turned to walk towards his bedroom. “And. If you were worried about him, about anything else, well, I wouldn't judge you.”

After all. The possibility dwelt in his mind, looming bigger with every day Gehrman wouldn't come out…

“Your baseless sentimentality is nauseating.” Laurence muttered behind him. “I am not afraid. I am being practical. It would be a significant loss if Gehrman departed.”

(Departed, as if he would just be going away. In some sense, that was what Maria had done, and then Micolash. But it sounded better than ‘went mad’ or ‘became a beast’ or ‘took her own life’, so Ludwig took solace in that little thing the same way Laurence probably was.)

“Of course, your holiness being above such things.” Ludwig agreed, pushing open his bedroom door. “Pray forgive me for the lapse.”

He could feel Laurence eying him a long moment. Then there was a little huff of annoyance from the Vicar. “Just go to sleep. I listen to maudlin old men all day and night. Don’t ask me to become one myself.”

Ludwig let out a soft laugh, conscientious of the other hunters and clergy living in the apartments. “Of course I won’t.” He left the door open and crawed under his blankets. “You’re welcome to the kitchen,” He called around a yawn. “Or the study. You’re just- welcome, Laurence, so be comfortable.” The sheets weren’t warm anymore, which was depressing, but the mattress felt like heaven under him. He sprawled out and let himself go lax in it. 

He dozed. Distantly, he was aware of Laurence moving around his flat, the same as he was aware of the people passing by, the birds singing outside. 

He was half dreaming of a field of Lumenwood flowers outside Byrgenwerth when he felt the bed shift, and stirred awake enough to open an eye. 

Laurence had sat on the edge, his back against the headboard, holding a book that Ludwig thought was probably the novel Ludwig had left half read on the counter six months ago. 

Laurence glanced down at him and arched a brow, his eyes glittering. “Sleep.” he reminded Ludwig, then cracked open the book and scoffed. “Oh, this is one of Gehrman’s awful books.”

“I like his taste in stories.” Ludwig mumbled, and shut his eye again. “They have happy endings… There’s no call for that kind of hostility.”

“Dross. Complete garbage.” He heard a page turn and another little derisive noise. “Go to sleep.”

“Going.” Ludwig promised, and buried his face in the pillow.

#

Someone stroked his hair and mumbled complaints about a book, and the apartment felt safe, and Ludwig was home, and things were alright.

And then someone knocked on the door and the warmth left his side. He curled into it and tried not to resent the obligations of the waking world.

The awareness of a person passed out of his room an interminably long moment, then returned, and leaned close enough that he could feel warm breath on his temple. “It’s a Choir Hunter.” Laurence murmured, “Carim.” Then, “I’m going to kill him for waking you.”

“You can’t kill him.” Ludwig mumbled, trying to focus. "He still dreams. He'll just come back angry at you." Ludwig forced himself to wake up, and it was like trying to drag his limbs out of a tar pit. “Carim…?” Carim, Carim, who did he know from- oh. Well. That was never good. “I can only imagine why he’s come to call.”

Laurence looked irritable, and like he probably hadn’t slept. He’d made it halfway through the despised book, Ludwig noticed when he got out of bed and opened the curtains a crack. It was sitting on the nightstand with a scrap of paper marking Laurence's place, a bit further than Ludwig had gotten before the newest outbreak had stolen away his free time. He wondered if Laurence would finish it. The Vicar sat on Ludwig's vacated spot, narrowed his eyes like a cat in a sunny patch, and then took over laying there. Ludwig tried not to resent him for it, because Laurence slept less than him and he should probably encourage him napping if nothing else.

Then someone moved in the hall outside of his apartment, and he remembered he had a hunter waiting to call on him. Ludwig pulled the bedroom door mostly shut and went to answer Carim, who came bearing- well. Unpleasant tidings. Whatever was left of Ludwig's peaceful afternoon was shredded and lit aflame: the beasts were changing again, and one of the Harrowed had gone rogue.

**Author's Note:**

> To be totally frank it bothers the hell out of me that they didn't fully address their issues in here, but also grief isn't something you tackle in a day - especially not prolonged grief. And it's hard for me to imagine Laurence as someone who can actually sit down and admit when something is bothering him, because the guy probably thinks he's capable of way more than he is, and therefore admitting he can't deal with something himself is admitting to failure. Characters like this are interesting, but gods are they unhealthy and upsetting for the same reasons. 
> 
> There's not a lot to go on regarding Laurence's canon personality, so a lot of the personality he ended up with in my fics was made using the one line we get in game, the lore with his skull(s), and the cut dialogue/lore, as well as me thinking seriously about the Church. Specifically that it's more of a crazy cult, with Laurence's skull, humanity's ascension, and the Old Blood as its main focuses. Also, that he was the first Cleric Beast: blood-addicted Yharnumites don't usually get bigger than scourge beasts, implying he used a LOT of blood before his transformation, probably on par with other hunters/clerics.  
> Him being small and using the threaded cane has no lore basis, it was just something that was interesting/amusing to me. I can totally picture Gehrman making custom weapons for his friends/students then acting like he didn't slave over the design for ages, no no, if you don't want it just say as much.  
> I'm not actually sure whether the Vicar would have offered their blood to congregants, either, but the idea of it is interesting. So I ran with that in another fic that will be finished and posted, uh, eventually. 
> 
> Ludwig is - we get a better idea of his personality from the game, which was my jump off point, and his wryness is because he's been dealing with the rest of his friends and Yharnum for decades. It personally bothers me a little that honorable and straight forward characters tend to be portrayed without any guile, though - to stay on top in the militant-church hierarchy, Ludwig is probably capable of at least being both tactful and tactical.
> 
> In general I was struck by the idea that if they were all friends in school, Laurence and Gehrman were probably the ones who came up with (bad) ideas, Maria went along with those ideas because she wanted to see what kind of mayhem would result, and Ludwig went after to try and minimize any fires/mutilations/expulsions.  
> I liked writing this, but it also hurt me a little because I _know_ how things end :'>


End file.
